


I'll Love You Through the Pain

by nanero11



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Geraskier Fun Day (The Witcher), Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:08:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23834380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanero11/pseuds/nanero11
Summary: In a universe where soulmates can feel each other’s pain and are left with each other’s scars, Jaskier wonders what his soulmate could possibly be doing that makes him feel this much pain and gives him all these scars. And what was that rumor again? Oh yeah, Witchers don't have soulmates.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 24
Kudos: 434
Collections: Geraskier Fun Day





	I'll Love You Through the Pain

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Geraskier Funday, prompt: soulmates. Check them out on tumblr @geraskierfunday and feel free to join in on the prompts!

There was rarely a day that went by where Jaskier wasn’t in pain. Sometimes it was a dull ache that seemed to seat itself deep into his bones. Sometimes it was searing pain that made him fall to his knees, struggling to breathe through tears, and left him with a scar. Sometimes, though not as often, it was so bad that he never made it out of his bed for the day.

The worst part of it wasn’t even that he was constantly hurting, if he was being honest he was used to it by now, it was knowing that his soulmate was in pain and he couldn’t do anything about it. He couldn’t imagine what they were going through everyday that left him feeling so many of their injuries, that left him with so many scars.

And Jaskier would never forget the one time that he stopped feeling the pain. It had been strange because at first, he hadn’t even noticed it. But as time went on, he felt increasingly uneasy and anxious and, suddenly, he was living in his worst nightmare, even though he was finally pain free for the first time in his whole life, because the only explanation was that finally something so bad had happened that his soulmate had _died_. He lived with that knowledge for almost a week until he dropped to the floor sobbing, and not from the stabbing sensation he felt in his thigh, but from relief.

That was when he decided he would stop at nothing to find his soulmate. Because if he was with them maybe he could protect them, and if he couldn’t do that, then he could at least comfort them. He would give anything to soothe their pain, to just be by their side taking care of them, knowing that they were safe. He would give up his very happiness for them, if that was what it took.

…

Geralt doesn’t have a soulmate, and he believes that fact for two very simple reasons. First, it just wouldn’t make sense for him to have one. It was said that one of the mutations Witcher’s went through severed any soul bonds a Witcher might have. Second, if he did have a soulmate, he would _never_ be able to forgive himself.

So why was it that he had walked in on Jaskier getting dressed, suddenly realizing that that was the first time he had seen the bard without a shirt on, and was confronted with what might’ve been the worst feeling he had ever felt in his _entire_ life?

Because, to Geralt, looking at Jaskier’s bare skin was like looking into a mirror. Because raised, jagged scars and pink, thin lines lay across his back and his arms and his chest. Because Geralt knew that Jaskier had to endure all the pain for those injuries, _every single one_.

Jaskier’s head snapped towards Geralt as the door shut, alerting the bard to the witcher’s presence. He drew in a sharp breath, eyes going wide, and held his shirt up to his chest, trying, but failing, to cover himself. “G-geralt, I thought you were going to look for work.”

“I was…I already found a job. I was coming to tell you.”

Geralt watched as Jaskier awkwardly shifted, pressing the shirt in his hands closer to his chest, and all at once the Witcher felt a surge of emotions. Overwhelmed? Angry? Upset? He had no fucking idea. Something deep down inside of him felt like it was screaming, yet his mind was disturbingly numb.

Slowly, he walked up to Jaskier, and for a moment they both just stared at each other, neither quite knowing what to do or what to say. Then, Geralt brought his hands up to grab the shirt in Jaskier’s grip and yanked it away, once more revealing the bard’s bare skin.

“Geralt!” Jaskier cried out, clearly caught off guard. He clutched at the fabric but was unable to grasp it before the Witcher had flung it halfway across the room. “You c—"

“I…” Geralt brought his trembling fingers up to Jaskier’s torso, gently grazing them across several of the scars there. “I did this to you.”

He felt rage boiling underneath his skin and for some reason he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking as he traced them down Jaskier’s marked skin. Skin that should’ve been smooth and scar free. Fuck, he was angry, _so angry_ , and this was all his fault.

“Geralt, _no_.” Jaskier firmly pushed the Witcher’s hands away and wrapped his arms around himself, turning so his back was facing Geralt.

“Jaskier, I…” Except Geralt didn’t have any words. He felt his anger draining away, leaving him with a sense of dread. What could he say that would possibly make this situation better? Jaskier had been hurting all his life from injuries _Geralt_ had sustained. Nothing he did or said could make up for that.

“Jaskier, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Geralt tugged his hands through his hair to keep himself from reaching out to the bard. He wanted so badly to pull Jaskier into his chest and take back all that pain.

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you. I knew you’d blame yourself and it's not your fault!” Jaskier’s voice was quiet, but gradual became a shout, his shoulders trembling.

“You should’ve told me. If I had known…if I had just known, then I would’ve—”

Jaskier whipped around, a crazed look in his eyes. “Would’ve what? Geralt, I can’t ask you to stop living your life. _Of course_ , I want you to be safer, but not for me, for your own sake.”

“Jaskier, I don’t want you to be in pain because of me.” Geralt desperately met Jaskier’s eyes, slowly letting his hands fall from his hair. “I wouldn’t want you to be in pain for any reason. You’re my soulmate.” A smile grew on his face at the realization and it didn’t even matter that it didn’t make sense because _Jaskier was his soulmate_.

“No, I’m not.”

“What?” Geralt felt his smile slightly falter. “Look at us. We have the same scars. How could we not be—"

“Yeah, we share all the same scars, except for _one_.” Jaskier abruptly pulled down on the top of his pants, revealing his right hip, where he pointed out one tiny scar. “It’s the only scar I’ve ever gotten, and _you don’t have it_.” At this point, Jaskier was a full-on mess, tears streaming down his face, and sobs rattling out of his lungs. “You’re my soulmate, Geralt, but I’m not yours! Don’t get me wrong, I want to be here with you, it’s just, I don’t expect anything in return. I mean, just being with you, even if I’m not really with you, is enough for me. As long as you're happy I'm happy.”

Geralt stared at the bard in disbelief as he rambled on with the saddest smile on his face the Witcher had ever seen. How was something as small as that tiny scar ruining Jaskier’s happiness? No, ruining _their_ happiness? He wasn’t just going to accept that, because if Geralt was Jaskier’s soulmate, then, damn it, Jaskier was his.

Geralt ripped one of his smaller knifes out of its sheath and yanked down the waist band of his pants with purpose, drawing the blade across his hip in a thin line that matched Jaskier’s scar before the bard could stop him. He glanced up as Jaskier hissed in pain, before tossing his knife aside and pulling the bard close, ignoring the blood dripping down his leg.

“There, now we fucking match.”

“Geralt.” Jaskier place his hands on the Witcher’s chest and smiled up at him with that same stupid sad smile. “I appreciate it, but that’s not how this works. I’m not just going to let you force yourself to be my soulmate.”

“Fuck how it’s supposed to work. I’ve never had a chance to have soulmate and none of that shit matters anyways because I…” Geralt drew in a breath, covering Jaskier’s hands with his own. “…because I _choose_ you.”

He gently reached up to wipe away the few remaining tears on the bard’s face and felt relieved when he saw the tension in Jaskier’s shoulders beginning to slacken, the bard eventually letting Geralt gather him up in his arms with a sigh.

“You really are a big romantic oaf, you know that?” Jaskier sniffled, and leaned against the Witcher, trusting Geralt to hold him up.

Geralt grunted in response, feeling the corners of his lips turning up once again and if time stopped, right there in that moment, he knew that he would be content forever, with his soulmate in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> sooooo this was kind of a mess of a fic but i hope it was still good <3


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